


Joplin

by ChelleyPam



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one spoke about what happened in Joplin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joplin

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll do anything more with this. It's a bit more angsty than I usually like, but it's a bunny that wouldn't leave me be. I think it should stand well enough on its own.
> 
> The rating is for some language and mentions of dub-con.

_Trocones, Mexico_

“Hey. You Sebastian Monroe?”

Bass looked up from his glass of tequila and spied the man standing a few feet away from his table. Thirty-ish. In good shape. Carried a machete off one hip with a hilt that showed it had been well used. Body posture wasn't overtly aggressive.

“I'm not looking for any men. I'd rather not have to kill you but I will defend myself if you're looking to make a name for yourself. I didn't know she was your wife, sister, daughter...whatever.”

A grin tugged at one corner of the man's mouth. “The three biggest usuals?”

Bass took a sip of the tequila, letting it slide down his throat. “Yep.”

“I'm not here for any of those. I was doing another job and saw you here. Have a message.”

A single brow arched. “From?”

“General Matheson.”

The name stung. At the same time it tugged something in the place where he would have sworn his heart had died. “And what does he want?”

“He'd like you to come home.” That made him look up. The man shrugged. “There's a nice payday in it for me if I can get you to do it, but you have to be alive and it has to be your decision. No kidnapping or force allowed.”

That was nicer than what he'd done to Miles back in the day. “Twenty-five pounds of gold?”

The man snorted. “Nah, if he had that much he wouldn't be living as a farmer in Wisconsin. It's just something he's put out there in case someone comes across you. He also said...hold on...” He unshouldered his pack and dug out a worn notebook from a side pocket. Bass looked on bemusedly as he rifled through pages until he found one. “It's about 'Charlie and what went down in Joplin'.”

Joplin.

His gut twisted again. He remembered Joplin.

“That so.” He refilled his glass.

“Yeah. Look, like I said, it has to be your call. I was in town for another job I just wrapped up. I'm gonna get a room and get some sleep, then head back up tomorrow morning. If you're interested, I'll wait around until eight.”

“Noted.” The man started to turn away. “What's your name?”

“Mitch.”

~***~

_Sylvania Estates, Wisconsin_

Miles finished cleaning his work knives and was putting them back into the block of wood that held them when he looked out the window. He paused, blinked, and took a slow breath. Moving away from the window he dug into the bottom drawer of the nearby desk and fished out a leather pouch. He palmed it and headed towards the front door, opening it before one of the men could knock.

“Hey there, Dickhead. Long time no see.”

Bass gave a half smirk. “Miss you, too, Asshole.”

Miles returned the smirk and looked to the other man. “Good job. I was doubting anyone would find him.” He tossed the pouch of gold to the man, who caught it deftly.

“Just call me a miracle worker. Pleasure doing business with you.” The man gave a jaunty salute and headed off, leaving the two old warhorses to look at one another.

After a time Miles shrugged and turned towards the door. “Well, don't just stand there. Come on in.”

Bass followed him inside, looking around the neat, two-story home. “Nice place. Wouldn't have pegged Charlie for the home maker type.”

“Oh, she sucks at it. Anna did this.”

“Anna?”

Miles grinned. “Yeah, Anna. We uh...got together about six months back. She runs the school.”

That made Bass blink. “You're shacking up with a school teacher?”

“With a hot school teacher.” Miles' grin got bigger. “Thirsty?”

“Fuck yeah. I drug my ass up here from Mexico. Why are you in Wisconsin? It gets fucking cold up here.”

Miles shrugged. “This place was good enough for Ben. Should be good enough for me.” Miles got a couple of tin cups from the cupboard and got a bottle of whiskey from the small cabinet over the larder that sat where a fridge would be before the Blackout. 

Bass noted the dust on the bottle. “Been saving that?”

“I don't drink much any more.” Miles broke the seal and poured them each a cup. “Don't feel the need for it any longer. I don't know...maybe because I'm actually happy for a change.”

That got his attention. “The teacher is that good, huh?”

“Anna is fucking amazing and I'm damn lucky she puts up with me.” Miles handed him one of the mugs. “Good to see you again, Brother.”

Bass clinked mugs with him and took a drink. Not bad for post-Blackout whiskey. Not as smooth as the tequila he'd gotten used to. He enjoyed the burn, though, and swallowed it down. “So...Charlie told you about Joplin. Is this where you gut me?”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Yeah. You saved my daughter from being killed. Or worse. You dick. Wait here while I get my swords.” He poured Bass another drink instead.

He relaxed a bit. “Glad to see you being so rational about it. What made her finally tell you anyway?”

“Well...after you left...it eventually got kind of hard not to notice.”

Bass frowned. “Notice what?” Miles' eyes moved past his shoulder to peer out the window. His brother gave a slow nod. 

“That.”

Bass turned and looked out the window. Charlie was walking towards the house with another woman who was slightly taller, a bit older and had a wealth of ebony hair. She was also carrying a child on her hip. A toddler with a head of curly blond hair and holding on to what looked like a wooden toy of some kind.

He inhaled a sharp breath.

“Easy, Bass. It's all right.”

“Miles...”

A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder. “It took a good three weeks after you left before she realized you weren't coming back. She was pissed at herself after that. Blamed herself for you leaving because she figured if she'd had the courage to say something you would have stayed.”

Bass swallowed. “I...I probably would have.” He definitely would have.

“I know that. She does, too. Just... do me a favor. Hear her out before you get mad at her? You can't be half as ticked at her as she was herself. Just... let her explain.”

He swallowed again and nodded. “Yeah...yeah okay.”

The older woman opened the door, their laughter drifting in ahead of them. They came through the small entryway, talking about something some of the kids in the village had done, only to come up short when they noticed Miles wasn't alone.

“Bass, this is Anna. Anna, this is Sebastian Monroe.”

Anna gave him a welcoming smile, shaking his hand before moving under Miles' arm to be held into his side with a close familiarity. 

Bass looked to Charlie and the boy in her arms. There was a wealth of different things in her eyes. 

Please don't hate me. 

Please understand. 

I missed you.

“Billy?” She jostled the little boy slightly to get his attention. “This is your daddy.”

~***~

_Joplin, Missouri – 4 months before Bradbury_

Miles had the Rangers pushing the Patriots closer and closer towards the eastern seaboard, but there had been a group of them that had split off to head north. Bass took a group to run them down, taking Charlie with him as their tracker. He had grown to trust Mini Miles at his back, and he knew she wouldn't let any of the less appreciative of the Rangers try to get their pound of flesh out of the infamous Sebastian Monroe.

The battle had been bloody and vicious. The Patriots had met up with another group of their zombie soldiers Texas hadn't found out about yet, and Bass and his men would have lost had it not been for a local warclan/militia that had grown out of the chaos after the Monroe Republic had fallen. They'd had no love for the Patriots and their gestapo ways. Only slightly more love for Bass. Fortunately they were happy to lend a hand to Texas.

But their help and hospitality had come with a price. They wanted entertainment. In this world where the adult movie industry had evaporated in the lack of electricity, the voyeuristic members of society had moved on to live sex shows. 

And, like just about anywhere else they went together, even when there were more age appropriate candidates, everyone just assumed that Charlie was with him.

“Look, it's like this,” the leader of the clan said with an oily smile, “we either watch while you do it, or you get to watch while we take turns. Either way, that fine piece of ass is getting tapped tonight.”

They were out of ammo, outnumbered and most of his men were injured or exhausted. There was no way they could fight their way through them. And he had no doubt that the group of nearly two dozen men, some of them with visible sores and marks of possible STDs, would love to get their hands on the curvy blonde.

So he'd pulled Charlie close, trying to sooth the slight but physically invisible shaking her her arms. He'd kissed her lips and trailed his mouth over her cheek to whisper softly into her ear. “Close your eyes and think of someone else if it helps. Push these assholes out of your mind. Just concentrate on being touched and try to feel. I'll take care of you. I'll make it good for you.”

His Rangers agreed not to talk about it. Not because they feared him or Miles, but because they respected Charlie too much. No one mentioned what went down in Joplin outside of they got help from some local fighters and beat the Patriots there. No one spoke of what he and Charlie had to do to get them all out alive.

~***~

_Sylvania Estates, Wisconsin_

Charlie had the house next door to Miles. She hadn't wanted to be underfoot as he and Anna made a life together, but Miles had been too fidgety about her and Billy being further than shouting distance.

“Billy?” It was the first thing Bass said to her after they'd said good-night and came over to the other house so that the sleeping toddler could be put to bed. Charlie let him help get the child out of his shoes and clothes and into an old shirt that served as pajamas. 

“William Monroe Matheson.” He looked up at her and she gave a single shoulder shrug. “Miles told me about your family. He told me a lot of stories about you before the world when to hell and good guys got broken by it.”

“Good way as any to put it.” He ran his hand over his son's curls, not wanting to leave the room but knowing that they needed to talk and if it got loud being in here would disturb his sleep.

They left the door open a crack and went downstairs to the living room, the firelight from the hearth casting them in flickering shadows.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I didn't mean to keep it a secret...not really. I just...” She trailed off with an uncertain sigh.

“Just what? Just didn't want to believe you were having a Monroe?”

She glared briefly and shook her head. “No...it wasn't that. It wasn't because it was you. It was never that. I guess...I just didn't want to believe it at first. Kept telling myself that the stress and the uncertain meal frequency had my cycle stopped and that was all. I didn't want to believe that night...” She ran a hand through her curls. 

“I didn't pretend it was someone else, Bass. It wasn't that it was you. If it had happened in camp or on the road... because we wanted it... that would have been fine.”

And he got it. “But that night, the way it happened was ugly.” He got that perfectly.

She nodded. “I guess I was afraid that nothing good could come out of that. A bit afraid I'd give birth to a monster, so I told myself that wasn't what was happening. Then you left and I started to show... got hard to ignore it any longer.”

Bass grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair. “Christ, Charlie. I shouldn't have punked out like that. You shouldn't have had to face all that on your own. But I was in a bad place. Sick in the head. And that didn't turn out well for anyone the last time.”

“I know. I know you needed your space. And it took a few days for Miles to calm down once I came clean about Joplin. Not sure one of you wouldn't have killed the other had you been here.” She gave a shrug. “But...he helped. He told me how you used to be. Told me how, when it all started, you were actually the calm, sane and reasonable one. Which is a bit scary, when I think of it.”

“Yeah, Miles is actually pretty decent when you're around. We could have used you back then. I think we both would have been better men if we'd had to worry about setting a good example for you.”

“Or for Connor.” Charlie met his gaze. “Miles admits that, now. That it was a dumb idea to hide Connor. That you might have been better off had he been there with you.”

Bass snorted. “Hindsight. Gotta love it.” He looked back up the stairs towards the darkened hallway. He's a beautiful boy.”

“And he could use his dad around.” She waited until he looked back at her. “His grandpa spoils him too much. He could use a father figure that might be a bit more level headed.”

“Is that your way of inviting me to put down roots?”

He thought she may have blushed a bit. Her eyes cast downward slightly. “If you want. You've got family here, and I know Miles has missed you. I kind of missed you, too. I don't have anyone else to help me tease him about being a grandfather. Everyone around here thinks the sun shines out of his ass.”

“Really?” That was new. “That just won't do. Someone has to keep his ego deflated.” He rubbed the stubble on his jawline. “Been a while since I tried to the townie thing. Not sure how well I'm gonna fit in.”

“I hear Texas is looking for a new county sheriff. They asked Miles to do it, but he turned them down. They said he could do it from here. We're kind of central. And we're a pretty quiet area. Sometimes we have some who gets drunk and stupid. The worst you'd usually have to do is organize a party to defend against or go after bandits, and we know you know how to do that.”

“True. It's a thought.” He stared into the fireplace for a time, mulling it over. “So...if it had been on our own terms...you wouldn't have freaked out over it?”

“Well...no. That would have been our choice, not what...that was.”

“You hated me, Charlotte.”

He heard her let out a soft snort. “Yeah, but Joplin wasn't the first time you saved my life, Bass. And I wasn't blind. I'd seen you naked. I knew what you were packing. And it wasn't like I had a lot of guys around to fantasize about. Girls have needs, too, you know.”

“So...I was your fantasy material?”

“Sometimes.”

“When it wasn't Connor?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “The thing with Connor was a one off. I was...pissed.”

“About?”

“About being sent away so you could play with Duncan.”

He blinked at her. “I needed to talk with Duncan, and you put a gun to her head. Next time you need a stand in for me, try asking me directly. Maybe next time we can have it on our own terms.”

Silence filled the room and he wondered if he'd misstepped until she spoke again. “Yeah. Maybe next time we can.”

They sat a bit longer with nothing but the crackle of the fire until she couldn't take it anymore. “I made up the bed next to Billy's room. You're welcome to stay here as long as you want. W...he really could benefit from having you around.”

She almost said 'we', but Bass wasn't going to let himself push for anything more than that right now. Their start had been ugly. From his men killing her father and brother, to the war she fought against him and his Militia to Joplin. If nothing more ever came between them, he'd be grateful for what he could have. Be grateful that she was inviting them into their lives without reservation.

Grateful for this second chance.

“Thanks. Really.” He got up from the worn sofa. “I..uh...I should get some rest anyway. I can start figuring out what to do in the morning. Maybe check into that sheriff's job.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She offered him a smile that was oddly shy on someone who had lived and suffered as much as Charlie had. “Good night.”

“Good night.” He let her go up first, resisting the urge to reach out to her and try to pull her into his arms. He followed her up and went into the room she'd made up for him, his pack in a chair next to the bed.

The truth was, that night in Joplin had replayed in his head more than once. Without the war clan and their shouts of encouragement. _Make her beg for it! Don't pull out! Fill that little slut up!_ In his mind it had been just them. Alone in a bed somewhere. Away from Rachel. Away from Miles. Away from Texas and the Patriots and the fucking war. Just a broken man who, for some unknown reason, got to lose himself in the toned body and arms of a beautiful girl who could have done so much better. Those thoughts had helped him get off more than once. Helped him chase away the ghosts long enough he could sleep.

He'd think more on it tomorrow, after he saw what the morning brought. After he made sure this wasn't all some surreal dream and that he did still have a son with his blonde curls and Charlie's blue-grey eyes. Tomorrow he'd figure out how he would build a new life for himself here.

Maybe one day he and Charlie could push past Joplin and actually see if there could be something there. Something real that was on their terms.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my drug of choice.


End file.
